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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 27 days

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My Dearest Friend...

Glaciated Memory AU | Master Of Ice Art

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Imagine this, if you will: you meet your best friend when you’re young and he already has graying hairs.

Well, young is a relative term. You’re not exactly young, or at least you don't think so. The younger children around the village call you old even though that’s hardly something to judge one's age by--you’ve only just started university--but your friend is older.

You had never enjoyed the snow coating the grass or the cold and frost that cling to your lashes on the early morning walks to your winter classes before, but that day, with ice stretching in front of you, shielding you and keeping you safe from harm, that day when he looks back over his shoulder at you and gives you a warm smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, you exhale and see the frost on your breath and you suddenly find you can never look at things like winter and white and cold the same way again.

His eyes are so light of a blue they are almost white. They’re a heavy contrast to his dark skin. At first you think the ends of his long hair are white but it sparkles like glitter and ice and you realize it's coated in frost.

He saves your life.

He has a limp you notice when he leaves the village, simply a traveler passing through like a snowfall. You drop your papers, your pencils, your projects and they spill over the ice at your feet.

“Wait--Wait!”

He waits.

You design and build a leg brace for him in your dorm. He waits patiently, standing, still as an ice sculpture until you're finished the next morning.

“Come back if it stops functioning,” you tell him.

He studies you with calculating eyes that shouldn’t have been so warm when their colour was so cold. He nods.

And he does come back. A few months later. You offer him tea and show him your plans for a new brace--one that improves upon the failures of the old one--something you started designing the moment he’d left the first time. He sits down this time and smiles and you chat. Your breath shows in the air with every exhale the longer he stays. Your teeth chatter through your grin and he grins back before throwing back his head to laugh.

You become fast friends after that.

You learn to wear more layers. His hair grays more and you graduate after many long sleepless nights studying and designing. Biomechanics, biomechanical engineering, robotics--you find fascination with building, with bodies. “A marvel,” you mutter. “A marvel. I wonder if I could replicate it.” And he smiles at you.

He comes and goes as often as cold weather. You stay holed up in your house for the most part. Designing, building. You wave him over to his new brace, made from a material more resistant to cold than the last. You’re learning. He stays for tea and you make up a guest bedroom just for him. It stays there for years to welcome him whenever he visits.

Once, someone comes to find you for knowing him. You need a leg brace of your own after that.

He has more enemies than he has friends it seems.

“I am sorry, my dear friend,” he says. There is a blizzard outside.

Your discoveries are stolen one night and someone else’s name is plastered across your work no matter how hard you try. That breaks you more than anything else.

“I’m thinking about moving,” you tell him one night, as though you haven’t been silent for the past three days.

“Oh?” he says. “Where to?”

“Somewhere cold.”

He laughs.

He takes you to a place outside of any town. Remote and freezing.

“This is my home,” he says to you. It’s a perpetual winter.

“I think I’ll build a bunker,” you say, your nose numb from the chill.

You get kicked by a treehorn and you make a sign Beware of Treehorns and hit your dearest friend with it.

“I apologize, I should have warned you,” he laughed. “I had forgotten they were unfriendly to others.”

“My ribs do not accept your apology,” you sniff.

“Will you accept it instead?”

You huff and puff out frosty breaths and jam the sign into the ground.

Of course you forgive him. How can you not?

You build something to protect you and your bunker from the creatures when your friend is not there.

He enters your bunker shaking snow off his layers and off his straw hat.

“No--not on the floor.” You throw your hands into the hair. “Now I’ll have to mop it all up.”

“My apologies,” he says, though he’s smiling wide enough to show his white teeth. “I shall assist you.”

When the frost finally melts from his hair in the warmth of the bunker you see it wasn’t the ice and snow making it look white this time.

“What is this?” he asks, looking at your project, a skeletal structure made of spare parts you’ve started to construct, loose wiring and tools scattered about it.

“A marvel of engineering--or well, it will be soon.” He looks dubious so you take off your glasses and wipe them on your shirt. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only just beginning to build what I need.”

“I won’t be back for a while,” he says quite suddenly.

You put your glasses back on hastily. “Is something wrong?”

“Please, keep far away from the north side of the forest until I return.”

You’ve known of the serpentine war for a long time. You hear of it in the north when you’re purchasing supplies from the nearby town. You know it's over when he stumbles into your bunker and collapses face-first onto your carpet.

You have never seen him in red before and you find you do not like the sight.

The type of first-aid he needs is one that requires study and time that you do not have.

He catches your hand mid-way through bandaging his side.

“I’ll be alright,” he says, his voice like a cool, barely-there breeze.

“Of course you will.” Your teeth are chattering, you realize, even though it’s not cold in your bunker.

He does heal up. It takes a few months before he’s hiking with you to the town, leaning heavily on you and the walking stick you’ve made him. Your project lays on the table forgotten.

The Birchwood Forest is colder than it ever has been.

“I’ll be back,” he says once he can walk on his own.

“You won’t be leaving,” you say firmly.

“Julian,” he says. “My friend. I must go.”

You wonder if it makes you a terribly bad or terribly good friend for letting him.

You pour yourself into your work. A body takes shape in front of you. You do everything you can to make it human.

No one can steal this from you. It is yours and yours alone and it is marvelous.

It’s years before your friend returns.

Your creation is walking by then. There are wires still exposed and kinks to work out but you’re so proud of it. He enters through the door, slowly and with enough snow on him you’ll be swimming in it by the time it melts, but you don’t care.

You introduce him to your work.

“I used the face I knew best!”

Your friend smiles. There’s sadness there.

“Julian,” he says. “I’m dying.”

His hair is fully white.

Your smile vanishes.

You hadn’t noticed your own gray hairs and wrinkles until then.

“I have no family. No one to pass my element to. I have been looking, Julian, but…”

He needs your help. Not to live, no matter how much you talk to him, but to ensure the element he carries within him does not die.

So you create something that can store it. You travel to places together, you gather what you design, you design and through trial and error you make something that can hold the power.

“There’s no one I trust with it more,” you tell him as you tinker with your creation. “He’ll keep it safe. I designed him to protect.”

“Thank you,” your old friend says, like a breath of relief.

You create him a holder for his element and store it in the creation that shares his face.

He wants to pass in the snow. You carry him the Glaciar Barrens and it is there your friend takes his final breath.

And you discover you have done more than store his element.

Your Zane acts differently. From the moment your friend takes his final breath, your Zane seems to wake up.

You continue tinkering, researching and you don’t know what you have done but nothing can explain it.

It’s his eyes that are the same. His face that you replicated to the best of your abilities still has some differences.

The eyes however. The eyes you know.

You don’t have time to begin to miss your friend when he’s standing right in front of you.

Zane feels, just like you wanted him to. You put everything you can into upgrading him until he’s as human as he can be. Until he can feel the temperature of something by touching, until he can feel the breeze and the snowflakes as they fall on his skin.

You add a memory switch, something that is not human. You hope that it will return his memories from before, but it does not. You leave it untouched for years.

And then you are old.

You are old and your friend has not aged. You have built him everything, you have taught him how to speak again, to learn to read and observe, you have taught him everything you can. But you do not know how to teach him to move on. You never did.

“Goodbye, old friend,” you say and you flick the switch so that he may start anew and live on without you.

You watch the light fade and his eyes darken to brown.

You close your eyes.

And a long time later in a dusty empty bunker, they open back up.

----

Zane blinked.

It was cold.

He was standing at the edge of a village, bare feet in the snow. His toes were numb. Villagers who had caught sight of him were approaching, calling over others to bring warm water and blankets.

He felt as though he was forgetting something rather important.

#LEGO Ninjago #zane julian #Doctor Julian Ninjago #Dr. Julian Ninjago #Glaciated Memory AU #KNOX WRITES (me)#i dont know why this ended up the way it did but HERE WE ARE IG #wrote this in one sitting wheezeHDJFJJG #i blanked out i remember next to none of thisHDJDJFJ #ALRIGHT weeeeeee time to work on other fics my goodnessHDJFJG #no edit we die like garmadon #SILLY GOOFY TIMES FOLKS

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shady-tavern · 10 months

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Vampire’s Lullaby Part Three

The last and final part of Vampire’s Lullaby, part one and two can be found here. I hope it turned out alright! This is another long one.

Warnings ahead for mentioned child murder, please take care of yourselves.

***

Annabelle had worried the letter thin at the edges, folding and unfolding the piece of paper so often it started to fray a little. She was no fool, she knew exactly what Charlette was promising her. What she was trying to do.

Annabelle had often felt helpless and small in her life. She had felt it every time she had raced away from the shadows at dusk and every time she had chased after the sun at dawn. She had felt it every time she had to watch Dion step outside with no way of helping him.

She felt deeply touched that Charlette wanted to do something. That she cared enough about Annabelle, cared for her enough to want to change things for the better. Annabelle just wished she could help as well. She had never been an overly protective person of her loved ones, but she absolutely wanted them safe.

She just had no means to make that happen.

"You don't have to worry," Ophelia said, sitting on her windowsill tonight after Annabelle had invited her up.

She had her son with her, who was climbing all around the roof, playing lookout with excited determination. The little werewolf looked very cute, much like an overly enthusiastic boy rather than a monster of fur and claws and teeth.

"Charlette is very tough," Ophelia added. "She had claimed a pretty big territory both in her old home and here as well. And you did notice how no one's coming to this part of town anymore, right?"

"I know, it's not that I don't think she can do it, I just wish I could support her," Annabelle answered. Of course Charlette was capable, but that shouldn't mean she had to do everything on her own.

Ophelia tipped her head in thought, one ear swiveling constantly to keep track of her boy and the hunters down on the streets. "You can't fight night folk," Ophelia pointed out, rather unhelpful in Annabelle's personal opinion.

"I know." Annabelle forced herself to set the letter aside. "If you see her, make sure she's taking care of herself, would you?"

Ophelia nodded. "Of course, she's family after all." Then her head snapped around and she made a quick growly noise in warning when her son tried to creep towards the edge of the roof where the hunters would see him.

"I should get to bed," Annabelle said quietly after a moment. "Thank you, for keeping watch."

Ophelia offered a gentler, less toothy smile. "You're my friend too, you know? Of course I'll be here if you need me." With those words she clambered off the windowsill and easily jumped onto the neighboring roof to join her now more cautious son.

Annabelle got ready for bed and struggled to fall sleep for long minutes, staring up at the dark ceiling. There had to be something she could do to help.

The thought occupied her mind throughout the following day, right up until they got another order from an impatient noble who wanted to have a notebook done by tomorrow to gift to a friend whose birthday he had forgotten. He was willing to pay triple the regular price for the rush order that would force them to stop working on all other orders.

Annabelle offered to work late again to finish up the notebook and Mr. Bell left with a reminder to be home before the sun was gone entirely.

"I'll be careful," Annabelle promised and focused back on her work. The trick was to not get sloppy despite feeling the urgency to head home, the fading light making her restless after a lifetime of fearful hurrying.

Even though she was very sure nothing would happen to her, considering the protection she was under and the friend and lover she had now, that needling along her nerves remained.

She was nearly finished when the front door of the shop opened with a jingle. It made her startle, heart leaping into her throat, right up until she heard Ophelia's voice.

"Annabelle? Why aren't you home yet?" the werewolf called out and a glance towards the window showed it was pitch-dark outside. She had entirely lost track of time despite her best efforts.

"I'm back here," Annabelle called out. "I was finishing up an order."

The door creaked open and Ophelia poked her head in, ears swiveling as she listened and nose twitching at all the scents inside.

"I've never been inside a printing shop," the werewolf murmured as she ducked through the door, hunching down and shuffling to make her large frame fit. "It kind of reeks, though."

Annabelle couldn't help but chuckle. "I can imagine, my nose is nowhere near that sensitive, but even I don't like some of the smells around here." Especially some of the glues Mr. Bell sometimes bought. If he went for the cheaper stuff, their books always needed some time to air out to stop smelling.

"I was just wrapping things up," Annabelle said. "Thank you, for checking in on me."

Ophelia offered a wolfish grin, revealing fangs and teeth strong enough to bite straight through bone and metal. "Of course. Could I watch? I've always been curious."

Annabelle gestured her closer and showed how she put on the finishing touches.

"You know, if you ever want to stay late, you could," Ophelia offered. "I don't care if we sit around here or if I'm keeping watch outside your window."

That was a very nice offer and one Annabelle seriously considered taking. She could get so much more work done that way. But for now, she needed to go home or her family was going to lose it.

"You'd have to sneak me out my window if we want to return here," she said. "I have to be home or my parents and brothers are going to think I died."

Ophelia winced a little. "Yeah, that's fair, we don't want that. Let me know when you want to come back to the shop." She grinned again. "I could offer you a ride. I'll bet you I'm faster than you."

Annabelle snorted. "I'm not even going to take that bet, I know you are faster than me." There was a reason why hunters didn't run from the night folk unless panic took over. Why they chose to attack and lay traps instead.

She wrapped the book up in a soft cloth and left it to be picked up the next day. When she locked the store, Ophelia keeping watch, she jumped in surprise when the large werewolf suddenly started to growl, fur bristling.

"Peace," a calm voice spoke from the shadows. "I have not come here for blood."

Ophelia slowly settled down, tail lashing a bit and she kept standing half in front of Annabelle.

"If I may have a word with the human?" the voice asked and Ophelia snorted.

"How about you show your face first," the werewolf rumbled. "Then she can decide."

After a moment's pause, a tall, willowy man stepped into the light of one of the sparsely placed street lamps. His dark eyes held a red shine and he was dressed neatly and cleanly and offered a polite bow of his head.

"You are Annabelle, correct?" he asked and Annabelle stepped away from the door, resisting the urge to fiddle with her keys. "The one who convinced Charlette to pick a fight with our kind?"

That did not sound like it would be a pleasant conversation. Ophelia's ears pinned back a little and Annabelle answered, "I am." While Annabelle hadn't asked Charlette to fight other night folk, she knew her words had had an impact on her vampire.

"Do you think it possible for us to get along? Humans and night folk, I mean," the man asked, watching her closely.

"I think it's going to take a lot of work," Annabelle answered after a moment. "But if I can befriend night folk, why can't anyone else? If the killing stops, we could start building something better."

He was silent for the longest moment. "I think you are very naive. It is not that simple. We night folk have tried, you know? To be part of your world."

He stared off into the distance, something dark and grim crossing his face. "There are children no humans want, even though they are of their people. So I took them in. I loved them and cared for them, clothed and fed them and paid for their education. Do you know what happened to them?"

Annabelle found her mouth growing too dry to speak at the tone of his voice, her throat closing up when their eyes met. Fury and grief made his eyes glow a deep, dark red. Like blood. He was a vampire, she realized.

"I woke with the sinking sun to find them all hanged in secret," he said, low and with an underlying snarl that sent a stab of instinctive fear down her spine. "Children who had done no wrong. Children who died for consorting with monsters, as your lot call us. You humans didn't want them, but you didn't want anyone else to have them either."

He took a step forward, eyes blazing, only for Ophelia to step a little more firmly in front of Annabelle. He stopped and took a deep breath to reign himself in.

"I hold no insignificant sway in my part of this city," he said, voice calm again, but the darkness kept lurking in his gaze. "I will not support Charlette when we gain nothing. When the humans we dare to care about get slaughtered by their own kind. I will not fight for that kind of world, nor will all the others who agree with me."

He straightened, looking tall and imposing despite his willowy frame. "We are not the only ones who will have to change our ways." He then briefly bowed his head, polite enough but a little stiff now. "I said my piece. Do with it as you will."

Annabelle's mind was reeling too much to speak as he disappeared in the shadows. Ophelia glanced over her shoulder at her, a questioning look in her eyes.

Annabelle swallowed, wetting her lips, before she managed to speak, "Has this happened to many monsters?"

Ophelia looked away, her ears drooping a little. "To enough. It keeps us from trying to get closer to humans and it makes the other night folk more angry as well. It feels like we can do nothing right in the eyes of humanity. As though, after humans took our king, they now want to blame us for everything wrong in their lives."

"I'm sorry." Annabelle had no idea what else to say. Ophelia sent her a reassuring look.

"That's hardly your fault. Come on, let's get you home before your family worries too much."

They walked in silence and Annabelle's family was indeed very upset at her late return. The hunters outside who had escorted her home the rest of the way had scolded her as well, looking worried.

As she sat in her room, belly filled with a cold but delicious dinner, she found she was too restless to even consider sleep. The vampire's words kept circling in her mind, followed by what Ophelia had said. It wasn't until she restlessly fiddled with the papers on her desk that an idea hit her.

She couldn't grab a weapon and fight, at least not without dying needlessly in the process. She had no idea how to wield weapons after all and she especially couldn't help Charlette win against other night folk.

But there was more than one way of fighting and more than one battle that needed to be won. She grabbed a piece of paper and her quill and began to scribble furiously, writing and rewriting parts until she thought she had gotten it right.

She shoved to her feet and hurried to the window, paper in hand. "Ophelia?" she called out in a whisper and the werewolf looked up form her perch on the neighboring roof. "Can you look at this real quick?"

The werewolf jumped across the distance easily enough, accepting the paper Annabelle held out. She was silent for a long moment after she read it and Annabelle fidgeted nervously.

"What do you think?" she asked and Ophelia looked up, astonished surprise on her face, then she grinned.

"I say you are amazing. What will you do with this?"

Annabelle smiled in relief. "Can you take me back to the shop?"

"Sure," her friend answered, puzzled and curious. "But why?"

"I've got an idea." Annabelle was already climbing out the window and was easily picked up by a big, strong arm covered in warm, soft fur.

Ophelia hauled her onto her back as though she weighed nothing and went bounding across the rooftops far faster than Annabelle would have traveled on the streets. They arrived at the shop in record time and Ophelia watched curiously as Annabelle got to work.

Annabelle printed two big stacks of flyers and by then exhaustion started to catch up to her. She had worried at first to blatantly use so much paper and ink, but should Mr. Bell ask, she'd come up with a fabricated story about tripping when she hurried to leave and spilling ink everywhere and that she had to regretfully toss things out.

"Can you help me spread these?" she asked the werewolf, who grinned, wide and a little wild.

"I can do better than that. Wait here." Ophelia ducked out of the shop and a moment later, Annabelle heard a loud, howling call. It was answered by others, near and far and as she peeked out the window, she saw shapes move and gather along the edges of artificial light.

"Annabelle, come meet our friends and bring some of the flyers," Ophelia called out and Annabelle took a deep breath and lifted her chin. She would not be afraid, she told herself. If night folk were meant to share a world peacefully with humans, fear had no place in it.

She walked out with a stack of paper in her arms and made sure to smile at the gathered night folk. All kinds of creatures had gathered and they all stared at her with varying levels of curiosity. She spread the flyers among them and within seconds she heard low chatter and murmur, the click of claws and clatter of hooves and the ruffle of wings.

"We will help," a raspy voice of a spindly, pale creature said and it smiled with a mouth full of sharp needle teeth. "We are tired of a never-changing world that does nothing but hate."

Ophelia ducked into the shop to retrieve the stacks and Annabelle decided that she would not worry about being this close to other night folk while her friend was gone. No one made a move to attack, on the contrary, the nearest night folk offered a bit of polite small talk. They were nothing like the stories of feral beasts she had heard all her life.

Soon every one carried a stack of flyer as tall as Annabelle's hand was wide and they left with excited murmurs and chatter, dispersing to spread the paper all across the city.

"That's just the first step," Annabelle said as she locked up the shop and Ophelia carried her back home. "Are you and they willing to help more often?"

"Of course," Ophelia said with a smile. "We've all wanted and waited for a real chance to change things. While some night folk have fallen too deep into the dark to return, many others who will take this chance with both hands and not let go."

*.*.*

The entire city was in uproar the next day. The flyers hadn't simply been dropped in the streets, the night folk had put them up on shop windows and street lamps and along all the intersections. They had even shoved any leftovers into mail boxes. It was impossible to go anywhere and not see at least one flyer.

Annabelle heard people curse and tear the flyers down, not wanting to hear what she had to say. But that was alright, minds didn't just change overnight. The few glimpses she got of people silently pocketing flyers, looking contemplative, was worth it.

She printed flyer after flyer as the days passed, sacrificing sleep gladly. And the more she did it, the more she told the truth, the more she spoke of injustices and wrongs committed that had to be made right and the possibility for actual peace, the more people stopped to think.

They started to look at the traveling groups of clerics and town guards differently, who tore down the flyers and demanded the heads of those who had done this. They all remembered the humans killed for being seen with monsters.

They hadn't known about the dead children, but someone had broken into the cleric offices and had returned with proof that such things had indeed happened. They had spread the information all over the city and people had been furious ever since.

Annabelle saw the expressions in the eyes of the citizens change as more and more things came to light. Most of all, people wanted safety and peace. The idea of no longer fearing the night, of not sacrificing their children or spouses just to try and keep the rest of the family safe was a very luring call.

Of course, the nobles weren't going to take this sitting down. Fear was one of the things that kept them in power, after all. Fear was what the clergy was built upon and how they got their money, by making people think they could buy safety off of them, as well as blessings for their homes.

Considering how swiftly the nobility retaliated, Annabelle knew that she was on the right track. Houses of rebellious fractions got raided and one day, the guards stood in front of Mr. Bell's shop as well.

"Feel free to look around," Mr. Bell said, making a sweeping gesture. "You won't find what you're looking for."

As the guards stomped past him, Mr.Bell met Annabelle's eyes, his expression telling her that they were going to have a long talk. It made her swallow nervously.

"You're very low on ink and paper," the head guard rumbled and Mr. Bell nodded.

"Yes, our resupply shipment will arrive tomorrow. It always looks like that at the end of the month. Especially with the rush-orders from various nobles we've been getting."

Annabelle involuntarily held her breath. This was not what their shop looked like at the end of the month. So Mr. Bell had noticed, of course he must have, that their supplies had dwindled down fast. Why hadn't he said anything?

"Show me the receipts," the head guard demanded and Mr. Bell dug out more bills than there should be.

Annabelle didn't let her confused and worried tension show and soon enough the guards left, having found nothing suspicious. Not even a stray flyer anywhere. Annabelle made sure to remove any and all hints of her activities and any messed up prints she took home to burn in the fireplace while her family slept.

"So," Mr. Bell said as he watched the guards march down the street towards their next destination. "Explain to me why you've been making those flyers."

At her surprised, startled look, he huffed. "I'm no fool, girl. I know how much stock we have and how much we use. You're lucky I forged some receipts in advance when I realized what you've been doing. So, why have you decided to become a rebel?"

The entire story tumbled out after a moment of hemming and hawing and Mr. Bell listened carefully and intently, asking questions when he needed her to clarify things. At last he leaned against the counter in thoughtful silence.

"I know some supplies who sell under the hand," he said at last. "They'll bring us more ink and paper than we officially need."

Annabelle stood up a little straighter. "You'll help me?"

Mr. Bell chuckled. "Oh, my dear, you're looking at a rebel yourself. I might be getting old, but I've caused quite some mischief and trouble in my younger days." His eyes were bright and he grinned, excitement starting to shine through. "And here I thought I was going to have a quiet, boring life until I died. So, what's next on the agenda?"

Annabelle managed to collect herself, drawing away from the reeling surprise to lay out her plans. Mr. Bell had some great ideas himself and together they started to build a more solid plan of attack.

"I can't let you work on the flyers during the day, in case they come back for another surprise search," he said regretfully. "You'll be safe coming in after dark?"

"I am," she promised and he nodded.

"Then do that. In the meantime, you'll go and get some sleep, I'm sure we can throw something together." When she tried to protest, he waved her off. "I can handle the work by myself for a few hours. If necessary we'll refuse some orders in the future. We have enough money to give us that leeway for a couple of weeks."

He gestured at the book she had finished for the noble. "And if we get more orders like these, we don't have to worry about money for even longer."

Annabelle couldn't help but hug her old mentor, who chuckled and gave her back a pat. "

Now, none of that," he said when she tried to thank him or to reimburse him by cutting short her earnings. "If anything, you are doing me a favor. I was wondering what to do considering that everyone keeps urging me to retire. Having a purpose is very fun, isn't it?"

She couldn't help but smile and he ushered her away to get some rest on their coats on the floor, while he got started on their remaining orders. Annabelle managed to doze off for a bit, waking up again when the noble dropped by to pick up the book. A well filled coin purse was left behind and Mr. Bell grinned at her when he saw her sit up.

"Ready for work?" he asked and she hurriedly got to her feet to join him.

Mr. Bell left in the afternoon and returned cheerfully. He kept what he had been up to a secret, right up until the evening bell rang and someone knocked on the backdoor. The one they only used to bring out trash to the small alley.

To her surprise, three young men were there, delivering crates of parchment and ink. Mr. Bell paid them and sent them on their way with a cheerful wave. The boys briefly peered at Annabelle with silent curiosity, though they said nothing.

"I'll keep the backdoor unlocked," Mr. Bell said as he ushered her out the front door. "Please use it just in case some guards show up to patrol at night in order to try and catch the flyer-rebel."

The thought made her nervous, but Annabelle took a deep breath and steeled her resolve. If this was how she could help, she would do it, no matter the danger it brought. Things had to change.

She returned home, ate with her family and was glad to hear that Dion would return home at the end of the week. He'd stay in his bed for another week and then he'd have to return to guarding the house.

The only reason Annabelle wasn't deeply scared for her brother was the knowledge that their part of town had become very, very safe. Not a single monster showed its face, at least not to attack anyone.

Ophelia waited by the window the moment her parents and brothers had fallen asleep and Annabelle climbed out and onto her back. They traveled along the rooftops once again and Ophelia dropped into the small alley to let Annabelle use the backdoor.

They printed another round of flyers, more monsters showing up to disperse them. Some smiled at her, others looked curious. Some seemed hesitant to be hopeful, but they had come to help all the same.

Annabelle didn't print flyers every night. Neither Mr. Bell nor she had the funds for such a thing, but she made as many as she could. Aside from flyers, she printed posters to leave on market squares and when one of the monsters handed over a well-worded letter their daughter had written, she published that one too.

Dion was home at last and she made sure her brother was comfortable. He looked tense and unhappy, though his worry eased whenever his hunter friends visited. They had told him they had guarded his family in his absence and how quiet things had been recently.

"It's weird, in all honesty," one of his best friends muttered, the woman who always waited and made sure Annabelle came home safely. It was the day before he had to resume his duty and he'd been high-strung since this morning. "Sure, there are times when things are calm, but never to that extent and never for that long."

Her brother was quiet that evening as they ate and he only grimaced a little in pain when he sat up for too long. Everyone knew he shouldn't return to duty tomorrow, but no one spoke up either. Annabelle kept her head down, her determination to change things stronger than ever before.

If the fighting and bloodshed ended her brother could finish healing in peace. Everyone could heal.

A knock at the door made her family and she startle. It was too late for visitors, there was only a faint glow of light remaining in the sky, the sun itself gone.

"Open, in the name of the Inquisition," an authoritative voice shouted and Annabelle jolted in her seat, heart leaping into her throat.

Everyone knew the Inquisition. They were the ones who dealt with those who loved monsters, with humans who had gotten 'corrupted', as they called it. They also took care of rebels and 'threats to the city', which usually meant threats to the nobles.

Nerves made her stomach clench and her appetite vanished in an instant. Her parents exchanged a nervous, confused look, before they got up to hesitantly open the door.

One of the head priests was waiting on the other side, flanked by two of his subordinates and behind them were three guards.

"How can we help you?" Annabelle's mother asked, shifting a bit to stand more firmly in front of her children. "I fear we do not have enough food to feed you all, but if you seek a safe place for the night, we offer our humble home."

"We are not here for peasant gruel or to beg a spot in front of your little fire," the head priest said with disdain. "We are here to question you on the integrity of your family."

"There is nothing to question," her father said sharply. "We are good, upstanding citizens."

"That remains to be seen," the head cleric sniffed, pushing forward until her father yielded and stepped back.

Annabelle watched warily as the priests and guards walked through the open door and when they didn't bother with closing it, a bad feeling began to churn in her gut.

"Leave the door open, woman," the head priest demanded when her mother rushed to close it. Her parents and siblings stilled, nervous and tense. Dion glanced to where his weapons sat by the door, gaze calculating.

Annabelle saw his hunter friends milling outside, watching warily and inching a bit closer, half of them staring at the open door, the other half watching the surroundings keenly.

"We wish to question your daughter," the head priest demanded, those pale eyes boring into Annabelle, who scarcely dared to breathe. She sat ramrod straight, hands a gnarled knot in her lap as she gripped her skirts tightly, her heart pounding.

The way he looked at her said it all. They suspected her. They didn't know for sure yet, which was the only reason she wasn't getting arrested, but they heavily considered her the culprit.

"Our daughter has done nothing wrong," her mother said, shifting to stand more firmly in front of her. "Anything you have to say to her, you will say with all of us present."

The head priest looked faintly annoyed, but continued on without pause, "Seeing as lately someone has been stirring up the masses, we've conducted a thorough investigation as to the people capable of such foolishness. And we've now come to you, Miss Annabelle. Care to tell us if these are yours?"

He reached into his pocket to pull out some of her flyers, unfolding them and tossing them onto the dining table.

"They aren't," Annabelle answered after staring at them for a second, heart pounding so hard she felt as though her very bones were rattling in time with the beat. "I've seen them stuck on walls before though, why do you think that I made them?"

"Because she works at a print shop?" her oldest brother asked sharply, smiling in a thin and very much unamused way. "Our little sister has worked her ass off to support this family and you come in here, accusing her?"

"I do not like the tone you take with me, boy," the head priest said sharply and at a look from her mother, Rudi settled down with a fierce glower.

"Do you have any idea who could have made them?" the man asked Annabelle, who shook her head. "Or anything else you can tell us?"

Annabelle reached out to the closest flyer, coincidentally the newest one, pretending as though she was inspecting it. "The paper is thicker than the one we use in our shop," she said and the head priest's eyes narrowed. "And we don't own that shade of midnight blue either, it doesn't work as well when you want to print books."

She had never been been more relieved that Mr. Bell had gotten things for her under the hand, otherwise she could not have made those claims.

The head priest appeared faintly miffed, but turned to her parents next.

"Has she come home on time every night and not left again?" the head priest asked.

"She's shown up at dusk every day and she doesn't leave before dawn," her father said firmly. "We never heard strange noises or saw any wounds on her. Neither has she brought home gifts we couldn't explain. Go ask the hunters if you don't believe us." He gestured at the lurking neighbors outside.

"I shall," the head priest said, sounding colder and more displeased now. "You better hope your stories line up."

"They will," her mother said firmly. "Please leave now, we don't wish to invite monsters in and we still have to finish dinner."

The head priest stared Annabelle down a moment longer and she knew he didn't quite believe her, but he must have other suspects with how easily he accepted her answers. For now, at least.

"Have you considered that a monster printed these?" she found herself asking just as the man turned around to leave. "I heard some are smart."

"They're all mongrel beasts, mindless and driven by bloodlust," the head priest said sharply, looking at her over his shoulder, his eyes burning cold. "Don't be mistaken, girl, they can fake intelligence long enough to ensnare you. There is nothing more to them than instinct."

It was a fight to look appropriately chastised and agreeable and Annabelle made herself dip her head in embarrassed supplication. The head priest looked a bit mollified at that and stepped outside with his companions and guards, striding towards the waiting hunters.

Her mother closed the door, not quite slamming it but it made a clear, decisive sound. The entire living room was utterly silent, then her mother exhaled heavily.

"We will finish eating and then we'll wait for Dion's friends to knock." She turned around to look at Annabelle. "And you will tell us what exactly is going on here."

Startled, Annabelle glanced at her family and found all of them watching her with troubled frowns. She swallowed, nodding, and found herself too nervous to take another bite. No one ate in fact and Gerard soon got up to clear the table. It was almost unbearably quiet.

It didn't take long for someone to knock at the door and the hunter woman poked her head in. "They're gone. What happened?"

"Please come in and close the door," her mother said after a moment. "I think no monsters will attack, will they?" She looked at Annabelle, who ducked her head a little.

"No," she answered quietly. "They won't."

The hunters filled in and Annabelle found herself in the uncomfortable position of explaining what had happened weeks ago. Haltingly at first and then with more and more passion the story tumbled out of her.

She did not tell anyone about the kiss she had shared with Charlette, worried that it would be a step too far for them. Not because she had kissed a woman, they weren't like that, but because she had kissed one of the night folk.

Heavy silence rang after she finished, everyone staring at her with varying expressions. Dion looked guilty, Gerard and Rudi baffled, her parents incredulous and confused and the hunters were thoughtful.

"Is it possible to speak to one of these, erm, night folk?" the hunter woman asked.

"I think so," Annabelle said, thinking of Ophelia who was most likely waiting on the roof. "I can ask."

"Outside, not in here," her father said. "I just..." He sighed heavily, briefly rubbing his hand over his head. "What were you thinking?"

"She wanted us safe," Dion answered in her stead to her surprise. He sounded tired but understanding. "I can't say I blame her, father." He took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm tired of fighting for my life. Of worrying what will happen to you all when I fall. If there can be peace, I want it more than anything."

"As do I," the hunter woman asked and the other hunters of their street hummed and nodded in agreement, though they looked like they didn't really believe it possible either..

"I can go ask right now," Annabelle offered. "I could meet you outside?"

"Alright, we'll wait in the alley where no one will see us," the hunter woman said. "We just...we've got to see you're right, girl."

She got to her feet with a nod and hurried up the stairs. She heard voices rise behind her, but they were too quiet to understand individual words. It sounded like a hissed discussion, though.

"Is everything alright?" Ophelia asked the moment Annabelle opened the window. "I saw those fuck-awful priests prowling around."

"I have a request," Annabelle asked. "Would you be willing to meet my family and, um, our hunter friends?" When Ophelia reared back in surprise, she hurriedly tacked on, "It's safe, I promise. They just found out about everything and they want to talk to you. To see if peace is actually an option."

Ophelia was silent for a long minute, then she exhaled heavily. "I trust you, so, yes. Alright."

Annabelle smiled in relief, then visibly surprised her friend by climbing out the window. Ophelia easily hauled her onto her back and hopped down to the alley. Considering how everyone startled in surprise at her appearance but eased up immediately upon seeing Annabelle unharmed on the werewolf's back, Annabelle had chosen wisely to go with her friend.

"Everyone, this is Ophelia," Annabelle introduced her, clambering off her back and easily accepting the big, clawed hand that her friend held out for easy support. "Ophelia, meet my family and our friends."

"A pleasure," Ophelia said, sketching a bow, though she never took her eyes off of the hunters, who stared at her with the same intensity. "Annabelle said you have questions?"

The hunters hesitated, before Dion took a step forward, face tense but hope lurking in his eyes.

Slowly, with every question, Annabelle watched as the suspicion, the battle-ready worry, began to easy and fade. She watched as hope began to glow brighter and brighter instead. As if a gentle hand had found an ember that had been about to go out and brought it back to life with steady care in order to create a fire.

"Alright," the hunter woman said at last, turning to Annabelle. "How can we help?"

At Annabelle's surprised look, she grinned fiercely and added, "We want peace and we want things to be fair. For everyone, nobles and commoners. And those night folk too, if they help us. So, I think it's high time we join your little rebellion."

Ophelia looked positively surprised and approving, grinning back just as fiercely. "Oh, I like you."

The hunter chuckled in her low, raspy voice. "The feeling is starting to be mutual." She turned to the others behind her. "What do you say, are you lot ready to go and fulfill our dreams of cozy fires and full bellies and night skies we do not have to fear?"

The hunters rumbled strongly in agreement, faces determined and even her parents and brothers looked convinced. They met her eyes with care and a supportive, if worried gleam.

Annabelle felt relieved down to her bones and she realized she was grinning just as fiercely as the hunters and the werewolf at her side.

*.*.*

A knock at the door drew Annabelle out of her concentration. "I'm almost done, Ophelia," she called out without looking up. "Just a minute."

"I'll wait," a familiar and sorely missed voice made her startle and she looked up to find Charlette stepping through the backdoor.

Annabelle grinned wide in happy relief. Her vampire looked a little worse for wear, but proud in a way that told her of won battles. Her gait had changed as well. Where Charlette had been confident before, now she moved with the prowling knowledge of power, of tested strength and defeated opponents.

To her surprise, Charlette wasn't alone. The willowy vampire she had spoken with what seemed ages ago accompanied her, tipping his head respectfully.

His eyes were considering as he watched her, then he looked at the flyers and posters she had printed. It was getting easier and easier to find just the right words to convince the people, to sway their minds and draw them to the side of change.

"I didn't believe it, at first," the vampire said as he slowly stepped forward to get a closer look. "When I heard of humans rallying behind the cause of this one."

He nodded at Charlette, who curled her lips enough to reveal one impressive fang. He rolled his eyes at her, but looked fond rather than annoyed.

He continued, "I didn't believe it either when I heard of hunters willing to lay down their weapons and hearing us out. Of other night folk protecting them from their mad cousins."

Annabelle had been surprised most of all when she had heard of the change that had traveled through the city ever since her conversation with the hunters. Of the impact the people who joined her had.

Whoever had broken into the office of the high priests had done so again, publishing more and more damning material. They had brought proof as well for their claims, spreading committed misdeeds and crimes all over the city. More murdered children, stolen money, people forced and blackmailed into admitting night folk had threatened and thralled them when that had not been so.

The opinion of the night folk continued to shift slowly but steadily. Annabelle was helping where she could, doing her best to be a voice for the unheard. A voice for the people.

"None of that would have been possible without Charlette," she said, smiling at the vampire who smiled back with a warmth so sweet it made all the accumulated aches and stress and tension melt away.

Annabelle yearned to be held by her love, but held back for now. She wouldn't want to be rude in the middle of a conversation by getting distracted.

The willowy vampire raised a brow. "And none of it would have worked without you." He glanced between them. "Somehow, the two of you have done what I thought impossible. You're bringing our two separate worlds back together, piece by piece."

"People don't want to fight anymore," Annabelle said. "They want warm fires and full bellies and peaceful nights."

Or rather, most of them did. And those who wanted to continue fighting, well, there were always horrible night folk that still needed slaying. Just like there were horrible humans that the guards arrested to stop their evil deeds.

At this point, all that was left was getting their hands on the aristocrats, on the high priests, to force them to bow so they could cement the changes the people were demanding with increasingly louder voices. So they could have the peace back that greed and hunger for power had stolen from them.

"I will fight for that soft world," Charlette said firmly.

"Yes, you have proven as much," the willowy vampire tipped his head in respect and acceptance. "I only doubted if the humans would as well, but that doubt...it has waned with every sunlit voice that joined your cause."

He stared at the flyers for a moment longer, then looked up. "You will have my support. Every night folk from the warehouse district to the Emerald Park will immediately cease any hostilities towards humans and instead work with them when safely possible."

Annabelle's breath caught in her throat. That was...that was easily a third of the city. She stared at the vampire in surprise, who smiled thinly.

"Your Charlette isn't the only powerful one and I have many, many night folk to protect. I would not offer my support easily or foolishly. But you have convinced me, mortal maiden." He swept into a low bow. "I look forward to working together."

Annabelle hurried to curtsey back. "As do I. Thank you, really. This might...this is just the help we need to for a last push."

"I do my part as long as you do yours," he said and stepped back, gesturing at a finished and twine wrapped parcel of flyers. "I take it those are ready for distribution? May I take them?"

At Annabelle's nod he picked the thick parcel up. "I will spread these and I will get into contact with other night folk willing to help. We shall speak more on this matter tomorrow night. I believe it is high time both humans and night folk plan together."

With those words he excused himself and Annabelle stared at Charlette in baffled surprise. The vampire smiled at her.

"I've been kicking a lot of teeth in lately," Charlette said with a casual shrug. "He's had to bend the knee to me, but that doesn't mean he had to help."

"I missed you," the words were out before Annabelle could stop them, though she didn't want to either.

She got a glimpse of Charlette's face softening, then the vampire stood in front of her between one second and the next, opening her arms. Annabelle threw herself forward to hug her tightly, strong, cool arms wrapping around her firmly, holding her securely.

"I'm so glad to see you again, well and happy," Charlette murmured against her hair. "It was hard, not coming back sooner. But I had to make sure I could return with good news. And I'm so proud of you, for all you've done for me and mine."

"This is our world," Annabelle said and pulled back enough to look up. Charlette gently touched their foreheads together. "Let's fight for it together."

"We already are," Charlette answered in a whisper and when she grinned, it was fanged and fierce and not at all human and Annabelle loved her so much in this moment. "And we will win."

#my writing #vampires #wlw #lesbians #they be lesbians harold #I hope this turned out alright!#it took me forever to get this final installment done so I hope it doesn't disappoint!#I definitely learned to finish writing multiple-part stories ahead of time before posting #but this has been a lot of fun #I tried to have more of a closed ending #but with the sort of story I ended up telling it worked best this way #they're going to change the world for the better

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twicethetrouble · 5 months

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Guess who finished their nanowrimo goal! (not the 30k i was hoping but i did finish the fic i wanted to! so i'm taking it as a win!)

#tmnt #rottmnt #adopted donnie au #my fic link #my poor baby dee #he goes through it #but he ends up alright so it works out #happy ending for all #at least for this part #(he gets a happy ending at the very end too no worries)#(i might be mean to my boy)#(but i'm not THAT mean)#(i can't do bad endings)#(it hurts me)

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wayfayrr · 10 months

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The colors voices being being more quiet than before altho he can still hear them they are much more muffled as times goes on in reader's world making it hard for four to tell who is talking let alone hearing them against outside voices. Heard somewhere that the colors aren't extra pieces of four but rather parts of him so I would think they wouldn't go away it's just the outside world is way much more easier to hear than the colors now which means when four actual wants to hear them perfectly to understand who is talking and what their saying, he has to be in a room where there is little noise meaning he is gunna miss things. Twilight and Legend's behaviors and abilities that have something to with the animal part of them are still there even when they can't change to animal form altho Twilight still can because of his necklace since it has it's own source of magic and it's the magic Zant used to turn Twilight into a wolf but now in a gem where Twilight wears so I think when twilight or legend touches it they end up turning into their animal forms pluse those behaviors that connect with those animal forms stay no matter what as those are just nature to them something there body is just adapted to do like legend sleeping with eyes open and twilight having sharp teeth. Time feeling the affects of losing that magic fd gave him intill he has the fd mask with him where he can feel those strength back but it's much more faint since he still has to deal with those joint pains. As a treat reader takes wind to those aquariums to see the wonders of the sea and takes him to beaches. The Chain and sage come with them as well since they are very attached to reader, always there's one of them trying to loop one of their arms on reader's waist taking reader's attention off of wind and when people notice as some of the links faintly fight over reader as to not get introuble and get them all kicked out and so ruining the day for the two and so seeing how the links look similar to each other making some bold strangers asking who is the father of and wind and thinking reader is wind's parent but then again they are technically since someone has to adopt wind or else he is going straight to the orphanage and no wants that and noting how the links are it causes chaos and the stranger confused. Reader is gunna have to explain while the links are throwing hands and then there's wind just glaring at the fight like "why, out of all days to do this, it has to be now"

This happens a lot to be honest and those who seen reader with sage in the past think wind is adopted and sage is the other parent. Sage confirms and now the links are fighting again

I'm just gonna start this by saying I'm not gonna answer part of this ask because I don't wanna spoil the fic! I'm more than willing to talk more about the role wind's going to have and the family dynamics with the rest of the chain but right now I'm keeping it more quiet until I get to that bit!! If you want to send in asks about it feel free but I'll be answering them under a read more!! ✨

As for the rest of this! One of the first things brought for four when he realises what happens is sound cancelling headphones so he can get some privacy to tune into the colours whenever he can, without having to go into a private room and lose whatever they were saying if he has already managed to catch him. Reader's trying to help them all adapt no matter what. Even if Sage is being a bit of a baby over it. With the idea of Legend and Twilight keeping those traits as well, it would be a much steeper learning curve for them, as long as Twi's stone keeps some twilight magic within it both of them can shift as long as they please with the drawback that each time they do it drains the reserves slightly faster. Time losing the FD traits is what will take the longest out of the entire chain though, seeing as he's had that influencing him the longest out of anything and how he still has the mask with him. But as it does start to wear off and you're very right about the joint pains, the old man's gonna need a lot of support now that he's starting to feel his age.

But group trips with the chain like that, Taking them to beaches and to places wind wants to go as a reward It's so soft 🥹🥹 he just wants a nice day out with his family, He doesn't want them ruining it like this. you can guarantee he's sulking the entire way back.

#Sage will learn to talk to people at some point.#reader will force him to work out his differences with the chain #He doesn't get a choice :)#It'll end up alright after all the minor arguments #even though sage is still a sad wet cat #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #lu sage #househusband sage #moss✦answers

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girls-and-honey · 1 month

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#okay so random tag post even though it's been ages #me thinks the current place i work is actually decent a la accepting-queer-ppl so?? miiiiight. consider actually putting my #pronouns in my email signature (which hardly gets used but shh) but like. the actual ones not the society/people assume anyway ones #idk i attended a virtual tech focused event for trans dov (yes early but they didn't want to put the event on sun) and you know when #everyone is just sharing their stories and experiences and it's just like... an overwhelming sense of community? anyway that #and since it was hosted by a professional org the topics were all workplace focused and mayhaps that's something i'm thinking abt for #this year. at least within our pride group I might be ready? wild bc for a long time tumblr has been the only place I feel comfy being 100%#myself. but hearing real people's stories makes me feel like that kind of community would be nice to have elsewhere too #and the whole looking to others also turns around into the leading by example thing bc then we had some breakout groups at the end for #networking which is not my favorite but! i did my intro and said I use she/her for work but will use she/they for this group and #then the next person said he/him at work but for this group he/they so that made me wonder if it was bc of me saying so first?#which if it was is kind of like oh. the way I'm looking for those people for me.. I can also be that for someone else #anyway this sounds dumb typed out but irl/professional me has always separated out queer identity so it's new to me #i'm allowed to be giddy okay. just a little. as a treat (is tumblr still using 'as a treat' i really hope so)#oh shit is this what gender euphoria feels like #alright that's it for now i think #gah emotions and whatnot #missed you all btw i'll start actually being online again soon #personal

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arinmoss · 1 year

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painting practice

#if this was digital id fix the crop on it #and liquify things into place caus ethe compostion needs work for sure #anyways heres a funky lil guy #i like to paint but it has to be messy #painting #acrylic painting #watercolor #pen #ink #oh also i did the initial sketch free handed with a red pen! thats why the compoistiona dn such is kinda wonky #this wasn't really planned more like a sketch to get back in the groove of drawing but i like how it turned out so :3 #in fact thats why i painted it cause even though i did alright onethe face there was some anatomy thing iwanted to fix but could only do so #with paint #so i ended up painting a bunch more of it #mixed media

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feelo-fick · 2 days

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i feel ive fallen ill (succumbed to brainrot) . i have thinks on my brain give me a moment.

#sits down. i. alright lets see if i can get my words out in the right way #if i end up not posting anything it just means that i either started actually doing my work (unlikely) got distracted (likely) or thought it #sucked (likely)

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phantom-of-the-501st · 1 year

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Used to This

What's this? A (short) fanfic debut??? 👀 Don't get used to it because I'm not planning on making this a regular occurrence. 🤣 But I thought of this hypothetical in my head and needed to write it down.

°•°•°•°

Echo and Wrecker have a heart-to-heart while on Pabu.

TW: Mentions (though not in detail) of PTSD and suicidal thoughts.

If someone had told Echo that he would spend more than five minutes being able to relax, he wouldn't have believed them. Spending time away from missions was somewhat of a luxury at this point in Echo's life, in all of his life, really. There'd been the odd occasion between missions where he'd been able to go exploring new planets with Fives and the rest of the 501st, but those days were long gone. After Order 66, the idea of spending an entire rotation without the fear of being found was nothing but a dream. It's probably why this place almost didn't feel real, like something out of a story.

From Echo's position, up on a wall near the top of the island, he was able to see the settlements in Lower Pabu stretching out towards the water. Having grown up on Kamino, you'd think that Echo would be tired of the sea. He wasn't, not like this at least. It was calm, pleasant, nothing like the bleak storms that used to batter Tipoca City and Echo was glad to be away from the action, even if just for a second.

Things with Rex had been... a lot. With clones being removed from the Empire in such large numbers, the two had been doing whatever they could to help their brothers, picking up new reinforcements wherever possible. Echo knew that the Batch had been trying to keep in contact, especially Omega, but he'd struggled to find the time to breathe, let alone keep up any conversation. He'd respond where he could but, for the most part, many of the messages about how they were doing got lost in the chaos.

Echo did manage to catch one particular message though and he'd been surprised to hear that the squad were planning to stop by Coruscant. Apparently a mission for Cid had gone awry and after losing the Marauder (Echo had made sure to dig into Hunter for details on that one), they'd decided to cut her off. While he couldn't say that giving Cid the cold shoulder was the best decision, he commended them for leaving her. She'd been a problem for a while.

The Batch had spent a few rotations helping out Rex with base camp operations before they got a message from Phee. The pirate was requesting their assistance for a negotiation and Omega was eager to help her. Echo had initially been sceptical when they'd offered for him to come along, especially since helping the clones had become so complicated. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave Rex in all the mess. But after a few words of encouragement from the captain, and some reassurance that he could manage without Echo for a couple of rotations, he agreed to go, making it very clear that he'd be back as soon as he could.

Admittedly, taking part in a bar fight wasn't quite the break that Echo was hoping for, but it felt good to be back with the squad. He knew that going with Rex had been the right thing to do, but he'd missed this. A brawl wasn't an unexpected occurrence when running with these guys. He had been shocked though when Phee took them to Pabu, a quiet sanctuary untouched by the Empire. It felt new, fresh, and it was the respite that they all needed.

Echo tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. No shouting, no blaster fire, just peace. Quiet. It was nice. Although it did leave Echo alone with his thoughts, which wasn't always ideal. Not that long ago, he had admitted to Omega that he couldn't be alone in his head. After everything that had happened, being alone with his thoughts could lead him to... some dark places, to memories that Echo would rather forget.

He opened his eyes when he heard heavy footsteps approaching behind him. Wrecker. The demolition expert perched himself on the wall beside him, anxious, a little unsure if it would've been better to have left his squadmate alone. "Sorry if I, uh, disturbed you. I can leave if ya want."

Echo flashed him a quick smile. "Nah, your'e okay Wrecker". The man grinned and settled down a little more comfortably, joining his brother in staring out at the ocean. They didn't say anything for a while, so Echo drifted back to his own thoughts. Unfortunately, his mind had wandered back to memories of the Techno Union, of the time when freedom had seemed like a fever dream. A time so different from now. Echo hated these thoughts, the ones that intruded and festered and made him remember the worst moments of his life. The thought's he'd been unable to stop.

Wrecker, noticing the way that his brother had tensed up, looked at him, concerned. "You okay? You don't look so great."

Echo shook his head, quickly. "Huh? Oh, yeah... I'm fine. Don't worry about it." An unsure nod from Wrecker followed by a deep sigh from Echo. "You know..." He paused. He didn't normally talk about this. He didn't want to burden the others with his emotions. But Wrecker had asked, so... maybe it was okay? Echo started again. "You know, I often wondered if it would've been better if I'd died at the Citadel." Wrecker tensed beside him. "So many of our brothers died because the Techno Union managed to get their hands on me. That could've been prevented." Another pause as Echo fiddled with the end of his scomp. "And not just that. The nightmares, the memories, the PTSD? I just... I just wish that it would stop sometimes. It all becomes too much and I just... I just need it to go away.

"I'd considered it on Skako. Wondered if there was anyway that I could just... end things. But then I was found and... I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it since then. Sometimes I wonder if it would make things easier. Not having to deal with it. Not making others have to deal with... this." Echo gestured to to himself with his scomp, refusing to look Wrecker in the eye. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. It was clearly making his brother uncomfortable. He should stop.

He carried on. "But then I see this." Echo pointed out towards the shoreline, where Omega and Lyana had gone to take the boat out. "I see her happy, I see you guys happy, and it makes me realise that maybe all of this is worth it. That in the brief moment when everything just pauses, and I can breathe again, it all makes sense."

Echo ducked his head before glancing nervously over at Wrecker. His brother looked slightly stunned, tears in his eyes. Kriff. He hadn't meant to make his brother cry. Maybe he should've just kept his mouth shut.

Suddenly, everything tilted sideways as Echo felt himself toppling over, Wrecker's arm pinning him close to his chest. He couldn't see his brother's face anymore, but he could feel his chin moving as he spoke.

"We're glad to have you around Echo. It's been kinda weird without ya to be honest." He chuckled. "We know that you'll always have our back, but I need ya to know that we'll always have yours too." Wrecker loosened his hold so that Echo could lean back slightly and look at him. "If you ever need anything, just come and talk to us. Okay?" Echo nodded and looked back out towards the water, keeping himself positioned in a way that left Wrecker's arm around his shoulders.

They didn't say anything for a while. The two just sat, watching the sun as it began to disappear below the horizon. It was quiet again, peaceful. Echo decided to break the silence.

"So err... what's been going on with Tech and Phee?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Wrecker lit up, fully prepared to spill every detail about his brother and the pirate. Echo just sat quietly, watching Omega and Lyana's boat down below, listening to Wrecker's excited ramblings, feeling that, for a moment, everything was okay. He smiled.

Yeah... He could get used to this.

#so errr first fic #hopefully it's alright #I'm always very critical of myself so I may end up hating this (yay!)#also how are some of you doing this regularly???#I almost had an aneurysm just trying to work out how echo ended back up with the batch because I still wanted him to have gone with rex #but I got there #I just wanted to see echo on pabu #and echo and wrecker need some more interactions!#the bad batch season 2 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #arc trooper echo #wrecker #the bad batch

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